


Are You There, God? It’s Me, Reynir

by orphan_account



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Ghosts, Meeting a god, ghost attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 12:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Loki wants to have a little fun with ghosts and six mortals riding through the wintery scene of the post-apocalypse.





	Are You There, God? It’s Me, Reynir

Loki was the first to find them: a crowd of human ghosts lingering in the shadows of the abandoned hospital ward. Their mouths moved and twitched silently, though his ears caught snippets of hushed voices, harsh and wispy, scratchy voices, words pouring out quickly like a stream running down waterfalls. Something kindled a flame. But they did not stir out of their humanly remains’ final resting place. They were simply irritated by a disturbance of some sort. Loki made a face. The poor things. He could sense they desired a chance to step outside into a world they had been depraved of for the last several decades. 

They just needed a little friendly push. 

“Look at you,” Loki breathed as he peeked into the room. “What has gotten your chains rattled?” He chuckled lightly at his own joke. 

None responded directly to him, but they continued on their little mad prattle. 

“If you’re not speaking, then I’ll make you _show_ me.” 

He stepped towards the nearest ghost and placed his staff upon its brow. Immediately the images flashed in his mind: five humans, four in uniform and one in a shepherd’s coat, and a little kitten carried between them, meant to act as their alarm. They had navigated here some hour or two ago. They were the ones whose presence had disturbed the long stretch of silence that had become the ghosts’ existence. A young man with a long red braid had made a fuss over them, being the only one whose eyes had found theirs. 

“Ask him if they look mean,” the woman had said as her hand waved right in front of the ghost’s face, not seeing him. The young man she had inferred the question to had regarded them with wide terrified eyes, the green glimmering by the faint light from the outside world. The ghost had taken notice of it, recalling green emeralds, earrings, placing them upon his wife long ago, a formal dinner many moons before disease and death claimed the world—

Loki’s eyes widened with glee. 

“Did that young man spark an old need in you? Disturb your sleep?” he said. “I can help you find them.”

* * *

Trailing the team was easy enough. It wasn’t common to find survivors on this side of fallen Midgard. Virtually nonexistent, in fact. His brother often went into long stretches of searches in one region or another across the globe in hopes of finding more survivors. They knew there were pockets of the Nordic, a few scattered around the Americas, Madagascar, Japan. Perhaps some in Korea and Australia and New Zealand. The larger continents were a little harder to pinpoint what with the illness having claimed most of the world. It would not stop Thor, the bloody idiot. He had to be a hero. 

That left Loki bored and looking for a bit of fun. 

These people must have been explorers from the Known World on some useless and vain expedition, seeking to be heroes themselves. 

Loki snorted. Yeah, _heroes_. Driving a squeaky rusty old tank with ears that made it look like a Hello Kitty van runaway from some parade of ages past. Thor would have found them adorable. Odin would have smiled down on them if he bothered to take notice. Not one of them had the merits to wear such a title of _hero_ , which made this all the more fun and exciting for him. 

The ghosts trailed after him, spotting the tank tracks, and moved for the kill. The tank had stopped, and Loki just needed to step aside, find the best seats in the house, and watch the glory unfold. 

Pathetic! The mortals dropped like flies as the ghosts approached. One deep in the tank already appeared long dead, but maybe he was already gone before the ghosts got there, the stringy-looking human being. What were these people _thinking_ dragging _that_ out into this environment? Troll food in case of emergency? This was almost _too_ easy. 

And then that red-haired kid continued to scream. The only one not to have dropped from the proximity of the ghosts.

 _Huh_ , Loki thought in a bored tone. _Perhaps there was something to him after all._

The kid dropped to his knees and began to beg the ghosts to leave. Loki rolled his eyes. He would command the ghosts to have fun with the terrified ferret before they ripped him apart. Just as Loki savored the thought of how that lad’s face will appear, eyes wide as his body was stretched painfully so, a blast of light burned his eyes. Turning back his attention to the tank, he saw a great circle appear around the young man. Hisses issued forth as ghosts began to scatter about. 

Symbols burned in the circle, and Loki’s mind barely registered their meaning before something flew towards him. 

_“LOKI!”_

Nothing prepared him for the impact of Mjölnir hurling towards his head.

* * *

Thor kept a close eye on the ragged but noble group of humans ever since the ghost attack, leaving them momentarily just to drag away his brother to a prison in Asgard for his misbehavior. He will have to speak with him privately about their purpose in helping the mortals of Midgard, not spreading more discord. 

That would come later. For now his focus was on the young mage who had sent the distress call for Thor. He had seen the sigil from miles away and came answering. 

It was morning when the team finally appeared out of the tank, looking slightly shaken, irritable, one needing her previous injuries tended to, but otherwise fine. 

Then the young lad with the red hair stepped out. Thor kept his distance. While some company may be appreciated for the survivors, he had learned that oftentimes it was best to keep a distance. Not all of the humans still believed in the gods nor wanted their help. The mage among them may be the only believer. 

“Uhh, hello and good morning, to anyone up there, Ódinn, or, um, Freyja?” the mage said, looking to the skies. 

Thor glanced up, momentarily disappointed. It was _he_ , after all, who had come to their aid. But there was no need for arrogance. He had learned a valuable lesson in humility a long time ago. Listening further, he had to smile, charmed by the goofy young mage. His captain, meanwhile, definitely did not share in his thoughts. She was leaning back and giving their young hero a most incredulous look. 

_This fine lad does not appear to be the most versed in the art of prayers_ , Thor thought with a little chuckle before coming to a decision.

* * *

As Reynir grew flustered, feeling as though the eyes of the gods were bearing down on him, he apologized repeatedly and made to leave. He would have to think more on how to approach them for questions, thanking them properly, and coming to them for requests (was it too hubristic to even make a request to a god? He wished he didn’t know so little!) 

He hoped he had not offended. Perhaps some breakfast might clear his mind, or some more sleep. He whipped around to rush back to the tank and was out of eyesight of Sigrun and Mikkel when he rammed into something hard. 

Great. He just made a fool of himself before the gods by slamming into a tree. He probably deserved it. The gods were probably laughing, and he probably deserved it. He would have to laugh about it, at least. But for a tree, the texture was really smooth. 

Reynir stepped back and gave a little gasp, staring right into the eyes of a tall handsome man with long golden hair. A long red cape hung down to his knees, and the hammer he carried jarred a name from Reynir’s studies of the gods.

“Thor?” Reynir asked, uncertain. 

Thor grinned. 

“D-did you save us?” 

Thor winked and a moment later he was gone. 

Reynir stepped back, realizing his heart was hammering in his chest. His cheeks were flushed. Well, the Norse gods were pretty! He was going to have a great time being a mage! Grinning from ear to ear, he bounced into the tank to begin his studies as a true mage.

**Author's Note:**

> Two lines were taken straight from the comic: 
> 
>  
> 
> _“Ask him if they look mean”_
> 
>  
> 
> and 
> 
>  
> 
> _"Uhh, hello and good morning, to anyone up there, Ódinn, or, um, Freyja?"_


End file.
